


Human Again

by DesertVixen



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-22
Updated: 2015-07-22
Packaged: 2018-04-10 17:09:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4400282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertVixen/pseuds/DesertVixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being turned into inanimate objects wasn't actually the worst...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Human Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Missy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/gifts).



She really had thought that being turned into a teapot would be the worst thing that ever happened to her.

At least that had been sudden, and aside from the shock of waking up on her own tea cart, she had managed to deal with it. They had all managed, somehow, and had survived until Belle and her father had lost their way, and found their castle.

At first, it had all been like a beautiful fairy tale – their prince restored to humanity by a true beauty, the beautiful wedding ceremony, the castle once more a place of contentment. Mrs. Potts had been in her element, cooking and feeding people, helping Lumiere keep Cogsworth from being too stuffy, and hoping that there would soon be a need to refurbish the castle nursery.

Then the _morts-vivant_ had come. 

No one really knew where they came from. It seemed that one day they had simply been everywhere – in the village and outlying farms, destroying families and homes. The people who had chosen to live alone and in isolated places had probably been the first victims, with no one to come to their aid. Some of the scouting parties reported seeing _morts-vivant_ that resembled people they had known, a thought that Mrs. Potts refused to dwell on. That was the worst thing she could imagine, that being bitten by one of the horrible creatures could turn you into one. The creatures could be killed, but the only way to ensure that they stayed dead was to burn them. There were reports by some parties that the _morts-vivant_ had a lair near the river canyon, but no one had been able to confirm their existence. 

People had fled to the castle as the only place left that could be defended. Mrs. Potts still cooked, but now she often had too much help and not enough food. Hunting had become dangerous, and they were trying to avoid destroying what livestock people had managed to save before winter came, when there would be no choice. Mrs. Potts tried not to think about a winter without enough food or firewood. The walls kept them safe from the _morts-vivant_ , but they would not protect them from hunger and cold. 

Belle’s father Maurice had a workshop in one of the castle basements, but he no longer puttered around, working on inventions that were intriguing, not actually useful. Instead, he was trying to devise better ways to defend the castle, tools that could destroy the _morts-vivant_ with less danger to the people fighting them. 

Mrs. Potts went and sat with him now and again, taking him small tidbits that she saved for him when he missed the communal dinners. Sometimes in those quiet moments, he showed her sketches of inventions from the old days. Sometimes, they simply enjoyed the moment and forgot the horrors outside the castle gates. Maurice was an easy person to forget with, and Mrs. Potts treasured those small moments of peace. She knew that the new life was not easy for him – not that it was easy for any of them. 

Belle had adapted well to her new role, replacing her fine dresses with simple clothes. She did whatever needed to be done, whether that meant comforting children who had been pushed to their limits or leading scouting parties. She had become proficient with a crossbow and practiced diligently with a short sword, but Mrs. Potts knew that the weapons gave Belle little joy. Sometimes she found their young mistress huddled in the library, trying to escape from the bad dream they now lived in by losing herself in a book. There were plenty of books that she had never read in their library, but Mrs. Potts knew that they were not enough.

More often, Belle tried to distract others with books and stories, especially the children. Mrs. Potts knew she had planned to establish a school, where all the children and any willing adults could learn to read, but then the _morts-vivant_ had come. There was simply no time for organized lessons now. Instead, Belle squeezed in the lessons wherever she could, as much for their benefit as for herself.

It was their prince who worried Mrs. Potts the most. The years that he had spent trapped in his beast form had taken away his chance to grow into true manhood. He had needed no weapons then, not when he had been armed with teeth and claws. Now, weapons made him uncertain and clumsy. The Prince had a fear of being a failure, and Mrs. Potts feared that he too often hid behind his still-formidable anger, although he was trying to control it better.

Belle still had the power to soothe him. Sometimes Mrs. Potts found them together in the library, his head in her lap as she read to him. At those moments, she always slipped away. Sometimes she found Lumiere on guard outside the library, giving their prince and his wife the greatest luxury they had now – privacy and the illusion of peace.

*** ***

Mrs. Potts had developed the habit of walking the halls at night when she could not find sleep. Sometimes she would run into Cogsworth along the way – even the _morts-vivant_ could not keep him from being so tightly wound. He was lonely, she knew, especially since the rules and rituals he took pride in and loved had no place in their new nightmare. The grand drawing rooms and guest rooms had been converted into living spaces, and the only visitors consisted of occasional attacks by groups of _morts-vivant_. So far, none of those attacks had been successful. Instead, it was Cogsworth’s rudimentary medical skills that were more in demand, even if his bedside manners left much to be desires. The two of them had been through a lot together, and Mrs. Potts was hopeful that they would come through this as well.

Tonight, however, she walked alone, unable to shake the feeling that something was going to happen. A number of scouting parties had returned in the evening with grim faces and less men than they had started with. It was clear that the creatures were becoming more daring, and Mrs. Potts had the uncomfortable feeling that their time in the castle was running out, just as the food and firewood were.

She paused as she drew near the door to the suite the prince and Belle shared, watching as a slender figure in a heavy cloak slipped out, then carefully closed the door behind her. Mrs. Potts drew back against the wall, watching as Belle walked in the opposite direction, towards the rarely-used back stairs that gave easy access to the stables. After a moment, the older woman followed, being careful to stay far enough back that Belle didn’t seem to be aware of her presence. 

In the stableyard, a party of men was saddling horses as silently as possible, and Mrs. Potts was dismayed, but not entirely surprised to see Belle swinging up into the saddle on Phillipe’s back. The horse had served her well many times, and Mrs. Potts hoped that this time would be no different, whatever mission Belle had decided to take on tonight.

She watched the party ride out of the castle gates into the pre-dawn darkness, and she prayed for their safe return.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope you liked the overview, so to speak. When I first read your prompt, all I could hear was Mrs. Potts in my head, so that's what I rolled with.
> 
> Cogsworth having medical skills is, of course, a nod to one of the other roles he's known for.
> 
> _Morts-vivant_ is my stab at a "living dead" variant for Francophones. I know they have others, but I wanted something unique for the story.


End file.
